Wow! That's Loud
by EnigmatikaL
Summary: Brian is 19 and the frontman of a fastly growing band named Kinnetik. He uses sex, drugs, and music to escape the memories of his broken childhood. What happens when he meets 17 year old Justin at a show and is instantly attracted? What if another band member shares that same attraction...


**A/N: Before you guys start reading I'd just like to give Green Day credit for the title...it's actually the name of one of their songs, which inspired me to write this story. If you haven't heard it yet, I highly recommend that you do! :D**

Chapter 1: The Boy At The Rock Show

Brian nodded his head along to the loud, raucous music blasting  
through his overly used headphones as he tampered with the thick cords  
of his amp, trying to connect them to the wall's outlet while also  
being sure the amps were as close to front stage as possible. Brian  
always liked music to be loud, whether he be listening to it or  
actually on stage creating it. Tonight was no acception. He wanted to  
be sure his audience got their fucking ears blown off by his music -  
figuratively, of course. _Although, it would be pretty wicked if that  
were to literally happen..._

Stopping his labors briefly as a particular guitar riff played through  
his beat-up iPod, Brian wiggled his fingers in his own somewhat geeky  
rendition of "air guitar". His display of music-appreciation was  
interrupted however, by a rough tug on his shoulder. Plucking one  
earbud out, he turned around with a frown to give whoever disturbed  
his little "epic moment" a one-fingered solute. Looking back though,  
he realized it was his bassist, and bestfriend, Michael Novotny.  
Brian's knitted eyebrows somewhat relaxed as he removed his friend's  
hand from his shoulder. He absolutely despised being man-handled,  
*unless it's in the positive life-affirming way, that is.* Before he  
had a chance to chuckle at the truth of that, he looked up at the  
bassist's brown eyes and barked, "what now, Mikey? I'm putting our  
shit together just like you said." He rolled his hazel eyes after he  
quipped in annoyance. Plugging in and setting up the band's equipment  
was usually Ted Schmidt's, their drummer, responsibility.  
Unfortunately though "the little drummer boy", as Brian oh-so  
affectionately named him, broke the last of his drum sticks. Now he  
had to go hunting all around fucking Pittsburgh to find a damn music  
supply store - which left Brian, lead singer/guitarist/song writer of  
their band Kinnetik, to do the setting up since Michael and their  
other guitarist, Brandon Miller, were incapable of touching electrical  
cords without something exploding. _As if I didn't have enough to do  
for this band already,_ the handsome brunet bitterly thought.

Brian couldn't help but notice Michael's obvious admiration of his  
naked, toned arms and well-formed body adorning a black wife beater  
and very nicely fitting dark jeans, as the bassist stood silent for a  
moment before noticing his friend's expectant, raised eyebrow. Curtly  
clearing his throat before he spoke, he responded, "uh, um...Ted's  
back with the sticks," he began, trying to compose himself after his  
small slip-up, _Brian was just too hot sometimes,_ "you can go chill  
by the bar or something until the show - he'll finish up the rest."

"It's about fucking time," the guitarist huffed in part relief, part  
aggravation. It's not that Brian really minded setting their  
instruments up, he was simply just physically tired. The band had had  
a gig the prior night in Cleveland, Ohio, and as soon as it finished  
they hit the road and took off to Pittsburgh for another show the next  
night. He barely acheived four hours of sleep when it wasn't his turn  
to drive; their old tour bus' inability to not be hypersensitive to  
every damn bump or LEAF on the road didn't help Brian get some much  
needed shut eye. All of that coupled with his energetic and avid  
performance on stage in Cleveland left Brian feeling exhausted. The  
distances were always long and the timing was tight, but the brunette  
would never give it up for the world. He took a personal oath to be  
buried with his guitar before he quit.

Standing up from his crouched position by the outlets, the singer  
dusted some imaginary dust off of his front pants and walked down the  
short five stairs of the rock club's makeshift stage. He strolled  
towards the bar area near the back of the club, with a glass of Beam  
in mind.

"Almost three hours to find some sticks of wood. Have I taught you  
nothing, Theodore?" Brian teased as he passed Ted, rolling his lips in  
to contain the smirk at his obvious sexual innuendo. The drummer  
rolled his eyes, always fully expecting his friend's teasing.  
"Apparently not, oh-great-one. But I'll be sure to take detailed notes  
next time you're on the prowl," he dryly responded, earning him a  
patronizing pat on the back

"You be sure to do that, drummer boy," the taller man engaged before  
continuing towards a lone stool near the bar's long, cherry wood  
counter. He briefly looked at the time on his phone: _6:34...about two  
hours until showtime._

00

"Laaand of make believe! Aaaand it don't believe in meee! Land of make  
belie-"

"Daphne! Would you shut the fuck up?" Justin begged his friend through  
his laughter. She didn't seem to understand that she was not in any  
way, shape, or form a good singer. Well, more like she knew it and  
just enjoyed annoying her bestfriend. "You're ruining a perfectly  
genius Green Day song," the blonde playfully scolded Daphne while  
throwing a pillow in her direction.

The brunette girl dodged the fluffy weapon and threw it back at the  
blonde's face. "Oh hush. You know you looove my beautiful voice," she  
teased, "don't ever deny it."

"Of course, Daph. Why would I rather hear Billie Joe Armstrong's  
gorgeous vocal skills when I have you around," Justin played along  
sarcastically. He amiably rolled his blue eyes whilst jumping up from  
his bed. He walked into his closet successfully avoiding another  
pillow to the face (who knew feathers could be so damn painful). The  
teen huffed as he stared at his clothing; he needed to find the  
perfect outfit and soon. He and Daphne were planning on going to a  
show tonight at Transitions, a local rock club. The bands that played  
there were usually underground local punks trying to make it big by  
collecting a nice Pittsburg fanbase. Either that or those "fuckin'  
hipsters", as Daphne called them, that pretended they didn't want to  
gain fame and consiquently become "sellouts". They spouted more  
bullshit than their "hardcore" lyrics - I mean, why the hell would  
they not want their music to be famous and appreciated, and if they  
truely didn't, why were they wasting their time and dropping out of  
high school? Maybe there was a certain thrill to living on a six pack  
of beer and a family-size bag of Funions per week in the trunk of your  
band's piss-smelling van?...Nah.

Justin shook his head at his thoughts and narrowed his eyes. Maybe if  
he squinted a super hot outfit would magically appear in his closet  
full of heterowear his parents insisted on buying for him. The teen  
never usually stressed so much about an outfit to wear to Transitions,  
but tonight was different. Tonight an out of town band was playing.  
Not just ANY out of town band, but it just so happened that Kinnetik,  
his favorite band of all fucking time, was playing for two nights in a  
row at the venue.

Since two years ago, when Kinnetik started releasing demos, Justin had  
instantly fallen in love with them. Their music was punk, it was  
harsh, it was angry, it was REAL. Zero fucks were given in the process  
of writing lyrics, which then brought on the topic of Kinnetik's song  
writer and front-man. Brian Kinney.

Justin could feel his heart beat faster and his drool becoming lucid  
at the mere thought of the man. Brian was by far the hottest man in  
the history of rock-n-roll (well at least to this particular blonde he  
was). He personified sex with not only his written lyrics, but with  
his smoldering good looks...not to mention he was a very out and very  
proud fag. The first time he saw the man in a band photo, Justin  
craved Brian Kinney would be the man to fuck the virginity out of him;  
nothing had changed since then, other than his growing crush on the  
rocker. So it's safe to say he could barely contain his excitement at  
knowing he was going to be seeing and possibly - hopefully - meeting  
the gorgeous man. Which now brought him back to his issue at hand:  
perfect outfit.

Darting his eyes around, the teen decided on wearing a pair of jeans  
from a couple of years ago that had grown a bit tight on him. He knew  
he had a nice ass. What better pants to show it off with?

Now all that was left was a shirt..."wear this one," Justin's intense  
scavange was interrupted by a shirt being thrown at his head by  
Daphne. Grabbing the shirt off of his head he quickly examined it; it  
was red, it was short sleeved, he could tell it would be pretty tight,  
it was perfect. It wasn't his. The blonde looked over at a smirking  
Daphne. He sighed.

"When did you buy this?"

"A few days ago. I knew you'd be queening out about what outfit to  
wear to meet the love of your life, so I took it as a bestfaghag's  
duty to provide you with half of said outfit," she winked a brown eye,  
"you're welcome."

"You shouldn't have wasted your money, Daph," even though he was  
reprimanding her, Justin couldn't help the smile forming on his lips.  
He had every intension of wearing the shirt, it was just common  
procedure to go through the oh-you-shouldn't-haves after recieving a  
gift.

"I like to think of it as an investment; if you look totally hot  
tonight and Brian Kinney decides he wants to have his filthy way with  
you, I'll walk away with the knowledge that you guys fucked, in turn  
leaving my mind to frolic in fantasies of hot, sweaty gay sex between  
two very attractive men. So in the end, I benefit," she smiled evilly,  
like she was the villian telling the hero her plot to take over the  
world. Justin guffawed at his bestfriend's antics. He could not fathom  
a Daphneless world.

00

**Transitions, 8:40**

Brian looked down from his perched spot on top of one of the amps on  
stage, watching as the crowd bustled through the door and inside of  
the venue. Some of them would point at him excitedly and whisper  
something in their companion's ear about how they couldn't believe it  
was really Brian Kinney. The brunette liked to act like it didn't  
boost his ego, so he stoicly remained sitting atop the large amp; his  
only sign of acknowledgement being a raised brow. If it weren't for  
the tight security, he was pretty sure he would've been bombarded by  
weird fans by now. He didn't use the term "weird fans" lightly either.  
All fans were a little kooky...the definition of them practically  
began with the word "obsessive". That always creeped Brian out so he  
usually chose to admire his fans from afar, while the rest of his band  
always enjoyed interacting with their audience before, during, and  
after Kinnetik's shows.

The brunette rolled his eyes as he spotted said band signing  
autographs and accepting declarations of love from people they didn't  
even know. Well, at least Ted and Michael were. Brandon was probably  
off fucking some lucky fan or groupy. Brian couldn't really say  
anything about that, considering he's fucked his fair share of guys  
along their touring. That was probably the best part about touring  
though - you could fuck whoever you wanted to in one city and then be  
gone and done with them the next day, off to a new place with new  
tricks. It was sad for some guys who thought they could actually have  
something with the lead of Kinnetic, but that's how Brian liked it. No  
attachments, no bullshit. No regrets.

That's where he and Brandon were a bit different.

Brandon actually didn't mind relationships and even went through a  
few long distance boyfriends. Of course they barely lasted over two  
months though. Brian snorted to himself and slightly shook his head at  
his bandmate's rediculousness, causing Michael and Ted who were  
walking up the stage to give him curious looks.

"Those stage lights already messing with your head, Brian?" Ted  
laughed at himself like he'd just told the funniest joke in the world.  
Brian glared at the drummer, making his chortles of laughter stop  
immediately and turn to shuffle towards his drumset.

"We start in less than ten, Bri," Michael informed his bestfriend with  
a goofy smile. Brian couldn't help but return the same silly gesture.  
It was the same look they'd get when they were merely thirteen year  
olds laying around in Michael's room talking about their dreams to be  
in a band together while listening to bands like The Clash at full  
blast. ...You could only imagine how _fond_ Debbie was of those times.

The tall brunette hopped off from his spot and walked backstage to  
snag his guitar that was resting next to the other guitarist's. He  
then realized that Brandon was still nowhere to be found. Turning his  
hazel eyes to Michael, who was tuning his base, he asked (slightly  
annoyed), "Mikey, where the fuck is Brandon?"

"He was by the bar flirting with some twink when I told him  
ten...probably fucking ignored be though," the shorter man grumbled.

Brian groaned. This obviously meant he had to go retrieve their overly  
testoseroned guitarist. Brian fucked around a lot, but when it came to  
priority, music always came first. That's why he and Brandon were  
always butting heads; Brian felt that Brandon was too blaze about  
their band, while Brandon felt like Brian needed to chill out. It  
pissed the fuck out of the brunette.

He internally cursed Brandon as he tried making his way through the  
thickening crowd of concert goers and fans trying to catch his  
attention. As he neared the bar he could see the tall, dirty-blonde  
head of his bandmate. Brian could tell he was flirting with someone by  
the way the man licked his lips shortly and his eyes were slightly  
squinted in an intense stare.

Once he got close to Brandon, he could finally see who had captured  
his attention for the night as he turned to look up at Brian with what  
could only be an awed face. As soon as he layed eyes on the "twink",  
his dick immediately twitched and slightly grew in size. What stood in  
front of him was utter perfection. Brian couldn't help but let his  
gaze wander over the shorter teens compact, beautiful body for a  
little too long.

He was hot as hell.

He had ruffled, medium-length, natural blonde hair that the brunette  
ached to run his fingers through and pull on as he fucked him from  
behind. The blonde's lips were pink and plump; perfect for kissing and  
sucking. But his eyes were what nearly made the brunette cream his  
pants. Deep, blue eyes practically eye-fucked him. Brian couldn't  
really say he wasn't doing the same to the teen.

"Uh...I'm Justin, I-I'm a huge fan," the teen nervously stuttered. He  
mentally slapped himself, *smooth Justin.* He was glad the place was  
so loud, or he was sure the brunette would be able to hear his rapidly  
beating heart.

Brian merely smirked at the younger man's adorable blush that he knew  
he was the cause of. "I'm Brian. But, you would already know that  
wouldn't you," it was a statement, rather than question. Justin  
slightly nodded his head, not being able to form any other words.

They stood there for a while, just staring and imagining all the  
things they wanted to do to eachother, and fuck were there a lot.

Brandon glared at Brian. There was no way in hell he was going to let  
the brunette steal his prize. Since he first spotted the hot little  
blonde, Brandon had been overcome with a desire he'd never felt so  
intensely towards another man. He flared his nostrils and wrapped an  
arm around Justin's waist, taking the blonde and Brian out of their  
sexual trance. He smiled maliciously at Brian before speaking, "I was  
just inviting Justin here to the after party...and then to hang out in  
my hotel room afterwards."

Brian glared at Brandon. He didn't like how intimately he was touching  
the teen, and certainly did NOT like the idea of Justin "hanging out"  
in Brandon's room. The taller blonde looked back at the irritated  
hazel eyes of Brian challengingly.

Justin could feel the tension between the two men, and silently hoped  
for Daphne to get back from the bathroom soon so she could save him.  
His wish was slightly granted when Michael's voice interupted Brian  
and Brandon's primal glare-off. "There you guys are! We're about to  
fucking start! You should've been on stage minutes ago!"

Brandon sighed and let go of the blonde, but not before making sure  
Justin would wait for him after the show. Brian tried his best not to  
show his utter dislike towards the situation, and turned around to  
walk back on stage, letting out an almost unheard "later." Michael was  
the last to turn and walk away after scowling at the "twink".

Justin stood, staring at their retreating backs until Daphne returned.  
"What's up with you? Did I miss anything?" the girl asked, looking at  
his faraway face in concern.

The blonde let out a short laugh and shook his head before turning to  
his bestfriend with an amused smile. "You'll never guess what just  
happened, Daph."

00

Back on stage Brian stood at the front, ready to start the show. He  
could see Justin perfectly from his higher angle. The blonde had his  
back turned towards him as he engaged in conversation with a brunette  
girl he hadn't noticed while he was down there. He was giving Brian a  
very nice view of probably the nicest ass the brunette had ever seen.  
His pants got tighter with thoughts of wanting to fucking devour that  
ass.

Brandon noticed Brian's obvious admiration of Justin and decided to  
mess with him. He wanted to taunt Brian with something that would soon  
be his, just to piss him off. Leaning over he whispered in the  
brunette's ear, "He's a hot little fucker, isn't he?"

Brian knew what the guitarist was trying to do and decided not to play  
along. "He's alright," he replied nonchalantly. He snapped out of  
whatever the fuck was happening to him and focused on starting the  
first song of their line-up. He tried his best to get lost in the  
music like he always did so effortlessly, but found himself getting  
lost in blue eyes staring up at him from the crowd instead. Yeah, he  
was fucked. And without lube.

Brandon smirked, because he knew that Justin was way more than  
alright. He knew Brian knew that too.


End file.
